


Herculis

by Enchantable



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 01:20:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19140718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: "You have to do it,” Michael looks at Max blankly, “It’s shifting something, thats it. You move things with your powers all the time.”“What?” He stares at Max, “No. Have you lost your mind? No way!” He looks at Alex, “I can’t do that.”“He’s going to die if you don’t,” Max says.





	Herculis

**Author's Note:**

> Original Prompt: “If you want Michael you have to go through me first.” Malex prompt with Jesse Manes in ep 13, Alex shields Michael and get hurt in the process.

Michael comes to groggily.

He feels sick, sicker than usual and his head is killing him. When he looks up, Max is leaning over him braced on one arm. Michael swears and rolls out of the way as Max heaves. He pushes himself up shakily, reaching up and touching the blood that’s tacky on his forehead and caked on his curls. Shakily he reaches across his head and feels just how far down the blood goes.

“You were dying,” Max says, “blunt force to the head.”

“Shit,” he swears, “thanks man,” he looks around, “where are we?”

“Underground somewhere I—“

“Be quiet,” Michael cuts in. Despite looking like death warmed over, Max glares. But if Michael listens he can hear a horrible rasping sound. Like someone trying and failing to breathe. The last thing he remembers when he thinks about it is Jesse Manes and Alex. And yelling. And then whatever happened to his head, “Shit!” He scrambles to his feet as adrenaline kicks in.

In the far corner of the cellar they’re in, he finds the source. And it’s worse than he could have imagined. Alex’s good leg is twisted wrong, so is his wrist. But the thing that takes precedence are the rasping noises he’s making as his tan skin goes grey and his lips tinge blue. His brain shuts down and he runs back to Max, getting himself under him and hauling him to his feet. Max groans pitifully but Michael half drags him over. Horror floods his eyes as he looks at Alex and then up at the ladder.

“He fell,” he says.

“Probably. I think his dad got to him too,” Michael says quickly, “he was trying to protect me,” he looks at Max, “you gotta fix him so I can remind him why he shouldn’t do that.”

“Let me try,” Max says.

Michael should tell him not to. Looking at Max, he knows deep down that he doesn’t have the juice. But Max tries alway and Michael both loves him for that and hates him because the lights sputter and he drops his hand.

“Just his ribs,” he says, “please—he can’t breathe,” he bites hard into the skin of his lip, “Max he’s going to die!”

“Michael,” Max starts, “Michael I can’t—“

Michael wants to hurl every insult he can at Max. Throw in his face that if this was Liz he’d find a way. He wouldn’t reach his limit like this. But he knows that Max reached his limit because he was dying. Max chose him this time. Michael doesn’t know how to wrap his head around that, when Alex also chose him and they all might die because of that. Hope isn’t dangerous. Hope is deadly. He looks desperately at Alex. Things may be over between them, he may have listened to him and let him go but there’s no world in which Michael wants Alex hurt. Not over him, not because of him. Sure as hell not by him. He drags his hands through his curls as Max leans back against the wall. Alex is going to die and he’s powerless to do anything.

“Michael,” Max says, cutting through his harsh breathing. Michael looks over at him as Max starts to undo his shirt, “you have to do it,” Michael looks at him blankly, “It’s shifting something, thats it. You move things with your powers all the time.”

“What?” He stares at Max, “No. Have you lost your mind? No way!” He looks at Alex, “I can’t do that.”

“He’s going to die if you don’t,” Max says.

“I’m not going to kill him!” Michael yells. Max takes his good hand and guides it to his ribcage. Alex makes a stuttering breath and Michael’s mind snaps back to biology. If Alex punctures his lung—“shit,” he swears and moves closer between them.

Tentatively he touches the side of Alex’s chest, feeling what’s seriously out of place. He compares it to Max. Some of what they have is different but as far as they can tell, a lot of the basic stuff is the same. He hasn’t been so thrilled about shared anatomy since he discovered what sex was. He puts one hand on the outside of Alex’s ribs and the other just underneath them.

“Gently,” Max says, “feel where it is and push.”

Michael does it.

Alex gasps and jerks up but Michael steadies him. Color starts coming back around his lips. Before he can fully get back, Michael scrambles to his other side and repeats the process, setting his bones. This time Alex does bolt up and Michael has just enough time to clamp his hand over his mouth as he screams into his palm.  But he’s breathing. It’s still rapid and shallow but it’s a lot less shallow than it was. They both stare as he coughs but no blood comes up. As best he can tell, his lungs are okay. Alex tries to move and doubles over, both hands going for his leg before he curls around his broken wrist.

“Alex, Alex!” Michael gets his attention. Alex’s eyes are wide and struggling to focus, sweat is beading his hairline, “I’m gonna fix this okay. Just stay with me. Here—“ he fumbles his belt off and shoves it between Alex’s teeth.

“Do his leg,” Max says, “if his artery is punctured—“

“He’d be dead already,” Michael snaps and shifts so he can feel Alex’s femur on his good leg. He can feel even more clearly where the break is on this one. He puts his hands on either side and does the same push-pull. Even though he’s got the belt in his mouth, Alex still shoves his forehead against his back and screams, “Just hang on, we’re almost done,” Michael swears. Alex is almost limp against him. Only his pained breathing shows him that he’s still conscious, “Last thing.”

Alex makes a pained noise of protest as Michael guides his wrist between them. He doesn’t move from his hunched over position, if resting against him is the only comfort he can give then he’ll do it this way. He grips Alex’s wrist gently and feels the bumps. Focusing his power, he sets the bone. This time Alex doesn’t scream, he just makes this pained sobbing groan that sends a wave of self loathing through Michael. Carefully he extracts himself and keeps Alex propped up against him. He takes the belt out of his mouth and looks at Max.

“I set everything,” he says, “what do I do?”

“Splint it,” Alex chokes out.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be focusing on breathing,” Michael scolds as he takes his flannel off and looks around for splinting material. Fortunately the basement they’re in has tools. And he’s able to fashion something like a splint for everything and get Alex painfully propped up against the wall next to Max. It’s weird to see the two men he loves and has such complicated relationships with like this. “Stay there,” he orders them both, like there’s a chance in hell they’re going anywhere.

“Be careful Michael!” They order him in unison.

“Jesus,” he swears, rolling his eyes.

He figures out a way out of there and calls 911. Then he calls Isobel. If Jesse Manes wants an evil alien, well, he’s out of luck. But evil’s got nothing on a pissed off Isobel who shows up with the kind of smile that Michael usually only sees predators give on Nat Geo specials. She dumps a bottle of water over his head to hide the blood. He’s there when the paramedics strap Alex to a headboard and get him out, Max already safely tucked in his car.

“You did good,” one of them says, clasping his shoulder, “nice to see you remember anatomy.”

Michael feels himself blush before he hears Alex call out his name. He knows he’s not supposed to go. Despite the fact that he used his powers on him, Alex still wants time and space and, oh yeah, to not have anything to do with him. But he calls his name and Michael goes. At least for now he has the excuse that he may have hurt him in a physical way.

“Hey,” he says, “you’re gonna be fine,” he tells him. The brace immobilizes Alex’s neck but his eyes still find Michael’s. Whatever he says, Michael will chalk up to the pain, “these guys are going to take good care of you, give you the good stuff.”

“Thank you,” Alex says. Michael ignores the disappointment in his chest, “for everything. Thank you,” he nods, “you were more patient than anyone should have to be.”

“Hey, don’t—don’t start with that,” he says quickly. After everything, Alex can’t out himself in front of all these people like this, “you already start the drugs?” Alex screws his face up, answering that question, “Okay lets get to the hospital and continue this there.”

“Stay,” Alex blurts out. Michael stares at the naked vulnerability in his eyes, “I can’t do this. Please just—“

“Woah woah woah,” Michael puts a hand on him because Alex would rather walk on a broken and a missing leg than go to a hospital. Stubborn fucking bastard. “I’ll stay with you,’ he says, “okay?”

“If you’re riding with us, come on,” the emt says.

Michael nods and looks back over at Isobel who gives him a look. He shrugs her off because he doesn’t have a choice. He’s gotten the blood out of his hair. And Alex’s fingers are locked around his. So Michael clambers into the ambulance after they load Alex in and close the doors. The ambulance takes off and Michael stares at Alex’s features in the light, willing him to breathe. Alex opens his eyes and looks at him and Michael gives him the best smile he can.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he says.

“You’ll stay?” Alex asks and Michael gets the sense the hospital isn’t what they’re talking about.

“I can’t stay indefinitely,” he says. Alex closes his eyes and the heart monitor spikes, “I’m sorry, I wish—“ he shakes his head, “we can’t be like this forever.”

“I know,” Alex says miserably, “I just,” he sets his jaw, “I need more time. Please.”

Michael swallows thickly. Alex grips his hand.

“I know I messed up. I know,” he says, “I just have to get better—“

“No,” Michael cuts in. Alex’s face falls, “you don’t have to get better and then be here. I’m not asking you to get better,” he glances at the EMTs who are pretending to do things but listening with rapt attention, “I wanted you as you are. Haven’t you figured that out by now?”

“I’m an idiot,” Alex says after a moment.

“Yeah,” Michael agrees, “but I was lying to you so—“ he looks at Alex’s broken leg, “let me be there for you.”

Alex swallows nervously. Michael knows this isn’t fair. He hates people seeing him weak too, but they have to try something. Resolve flickers in Alex’s eyes and he nods.

“Okay,” he says, “okay.”

Michael grips his hand tighter and for the first time Michael feels like there might be hope for them after all.

“The hospital has great corn muffins,” one of the EMT’s says, eyes focused on her forms, “just an idea.”


End file.
